


Poppies Don't Bleed

by housekenobi



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, F/M, Frankie breaks, Use of They/Them, Yearning, cursing, mention of heroin, no she/her, no y/n, santiago is an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26102926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/housekenobi/pseuds/housekenobi
Summary: You are the field medic on a dangerous mission in the Helmand province; unfortunately the mission goes awry and Frankie holds your life in his hands
Relationships: Francisco "Catfish" Morales & Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	Poppies Don't Bleed

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted to Tumblr with the same handle. This has a happy ending I promise, it’s just sad and angsty, like me. I’ve been dealing with the anxiety of having to possibly transfer from my clinic to a covid field hospital so I wrote some of the feelings out

A soft breeze rustled through the field of large red flowers, their black centers bathing in the sun while they swayed gently back and forth. The quiet valley was filled with them, hectare after hectare of flowers, painting a quiet picture of serenity in the Helmand province. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought you had found a quiet piece of paradise. The reality was that you were in the heart of one of the most dangerous places in the world: the _Papaver somniferum_ fields. 

Opium poppies. 

The peaceful silence was interrupted by the loud whir of helicopter blades as the large bird crested the eastern range of mountains. It neared the ground before your team of six dropped down on ropes, each hitting the ground with a quiet thud. Once everyone was on the ground the helicopter pulled up, disappearing without a trace except for a small patch of bare stems. 

You looked between your teammates, taking in their expressions of wonder as they gazed over the fields. It was a shame, really, that it wouldn’t stay beautiful for long.

“Alright,” Santiago called, clapping his hands together, “we need to get up this mountain and review our plans before nightfall." 

Everyone grunted in agreement and you looked up the mountain, searching out any sign of a cave to temporarily shelter in.

"Hey,” you said, elbowing Frankie before he looked up to where you were pointing, “think that could work?" 

You had found a dark crack in the rock, looking like it could be large enough to use for the few hours you would need it. Frankie grunted while he readjusted his rucksack and loosened the sling of his rifle to put it on his shoulder.

"It might. Worth checking out at least.”

You nodded at him and he jogged ahead of you.

“Pope!” you heard him call, watching him point out the cave as you tightened the straps on your pack, slowly beginning the long climb up. 

Your team worked their way up the side of the mountain, eventually reaching the opening you had spotted from the ground. Santiago put his hand in the air, signaling for everyone to stop. He pointed at Benny who quietly laid his rucksack on the ground and clicked the safety off his rifle. Pope mirrored his actions and they flanked the cave entrance, slowly entering to ensure it was empty. 

Several moments passed and you stole a glance at your watch - six minutes.

“Do you think-” you started, stopping when Tom held up a hand to silence you, pointing to his ear. You closed your eyes and shifted under the weight you were carrying, urging them to hurry up. 

Benny finally stuck his head out of the cave, beckoning everyone forward.

“C'mon,” he called, “it’s bigger on the inside.”

Will rolled his eyes. “You fucking nerd,” he muttered, shoving past his brother at the mouth of the cave. 

Everyone slowly entered, looking at the size of the cavern concealed by the small entrance.

“Good eye Adder,” Santiago yelled over to you, lighting a lantern on the ground near the center of the cave. You responded with a wave of your hand, dropping your bag to the floor and unwrapping your rifle from your body. 

You began to shuffle through your supplies, making sure everything you could need was where you wanted it to be in the unfortunate event that your services were called for.

“Shit,” you hissed, poking through your bag while you searched for the kaolin clotting packets. 

“I’ve got them over here, Addie.” Frankie was crouching near you, pulling the stack of packets out of his bag. “I’m not doing much flying for this one, so they’ve got me carrying for you." 

"Thanks,” you smiled, ears burning at the diminutive of your code name. He grinned back at you, tossing the bundle of packets over. You paused for a moment, turning the packets over in your hands before you looked over at him. 

“Catfish, exactly how much med support experience do you have?" 

"Well, unless you count medevac flights, none." 

"We’re just gonna hope we don’t need you to do anything more than carry my shit,” you laughed. He had steady hands and could no doubt help you in a pinch, but you really didn’t want to find out.

“Get over here and re-learn something!" 

Everyone on your team had basic first aid training, but it had been a long, long time since Frankie had thought about any of it. He chuckled as he walked over, plopping down on the cave floor next to you as you opened your bag, supplies spilling everywhere.

"You have to carry _all_ of this?” he groaned, running his hand down his face. 

“Yup, but since you’re carrying with me I’ll give you a lot of the bandages and a few other things.”

You started organizing everything between your two bags, figuring out what was best to stay on your person and what you could give to him.

“Personal protective equipment,” you said, waving a pair of gloves in the air, “very important. Your blood and my blood, no touchy. There’s a whole host of blood-born diseases that you do not want to get." 

"Got it,” Frankie said, tossing some surgical masks and several pairs of gloves into his bag.

“No glove, no love." 

You rolled your eyes while heat deepened in your cheeks, praying the the dull light was enough to minify your fluster.

"Alright, you dork. Trauma supplies are next, and I _need_ you to remember what all of these are called, so if anything happens, you’re able to help me." 

Frankie’s face darkened, the gravity of what he had been assigned to do suddenly weighing on his shoulders.

"Hey,” you said gently, catching his attention, “it’s all going to be fine. We’ve done how many missions as a team, and Redfly is the only one to ever get shot and that’s because he was an idiot." 

Tom snapped his head up from where he was working.

"Hey! I heard that!”

Santiago rolled his eyes, huffing out a mumbled “truth hurts sometimes man.”

Frankie caught your eyes and you both stifled a laugh, listening to Tom ramble on about that _one_ time he got shot twice. 

Frankie quickly remembered a lot of the basics and easily picked up the lingo. In no time he was comfortable identifying a tourniquet, open chest seals, and several different bandages and dressings. You placed most of them into his bag, confident he would be able to quickly find anything you needed. 

“The patient assessment supplies I keep in my bag, but they’re all pretty easy to use,” you explained, reaching in your bag to pull out a pen light, a pulse ox, a thermometer, a blood pressure cuff, and your stethoscope. 

“The pen light is used to check if the pupils are reacting to light. You shine it in the eyes, make sure they constrict.”

Frankie nodded his understanding.

“I think you know how to use a thermometer, and the pulse ox is easy. You just put it on the tip of the finger, and you tell me what it says.”

He nodded at you again, squeezing the little device in his fingers before handing it back to you. 

“The stethoscope is a little more complicated, so come sit right next to me. It’s not hard to take a blood pressure, you can try it on me and then you’ll be a pro.”

You smiled and patted the ground, waiting for him to shuffle closer next to you. You handed him the instrument, watching as he stared at it blankly. That wasn't covered in basic first aid. 

“The diaphragm is the flat side, and the bell is the round side; I use the diaphragm almost all the time,” you said gently, watching him run his finger around the flat metal piece.

“The earpieces face out, otherwise you won’t hear shit. And once you have them in, do not-" 

Frankie tapped the diaphragm of the stethoscope just as you were about to tell him not to, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the twisted face he made. You reached out and pulled the earpieces out, resting them on his neck.

"That. Don’t do that." 

You laughed as you shed your field jacket, revealing your tank top underneath. Frankie’s eyes flicked to your bare arms while you gathered the blood pressure cuff and handed it over to him.

"You wrap this around my arm, the arrow lines up to this blood vessel here,” you said, pointing to your brachial artery, right above the inner crook of your elbow. “Feel my pulse there?" 

Frankie gently placed two of his fingers on your skin, feeling your steady pulse as it flowed through you.

"Yeah,” he murmured, slowly nodding his head.

“Good, now take the cuff and wrap it around my arm, you don’t want it loose. Arrow points to the pulse." 

He did as you instructed and looked at you expectantly.

"Earpieces in, diaphragm down, slip the edge under the cuff there.” You pointed at the crook of your elbow, watching as he gently slid the stethoscope against your skin. 

“You’re listening for two things. The first sound, and when the sound disappears again. You can inflate this by squeezing that ball to about 180. After you get there, you slowly let the air out and just listen. Make sure you remember the numbers that go with the sounds" 

You nodded at him and he began to pump the cuff, staring into the meter as he did. His brows furrowed in concentration while he slowly released the air, listening intently for the quiet sounds. You watched his eyes light up when he heard your blood begin to refill your artery, and caught the quiver of his lip when the sound died away again. 

After the cuff deflated he peeled it off of you and rested his hand on your arm.

"What’d you get?” you asked quietly, skin warming under his touch.

“110 and 68,” he offered with a small smile, proud that he had heard anything at all. 

“Very good,” you nodded. “Now while you’ve got that in your ears, you’re going to listen to my lungs and heart, and then we can call it quits and go bother Pope about dinner." 

You untucked your tank top and told him to bring his hand up your back, stopping three quarters of the way up. He gently laid the smooth metal against your skin, straining to hear anything at all. "It’s soft,” he whispered, “like listening to a quiet breeze." 

"Exactly, you don’t want to hear wheezing, and fluid sounds like you would expect.” You then directed him in front of you, having him reach his hand below your shirt again and stopping just to the left of the angle of your sternum.

“There’s five main places to listen to the heart, but this is the easiest one to hear. Go ahead." 

Frankie shyly placed the diaphragm to your skin again and tried not to stare at his hand below your top, feeling the pads of his fingers burn where they graced your body. A steady _lub dub, lub dub, lub dub_ filled his ears, and he looked at you with curious eyes. 

"I can hear it Addie, but your pulse is a lot faster now than it was before.” He gently pulled his hand away and heat bloomed below your skin. “Are you okay?" 

"Of course Fish, I was…holding my breath, so the beat would be louder for you,” you offered with a quiet smile. Your heart was still racing against your chest, threatening to burst at any moment. 

“Sure,” he trailed off, eyes roaming your body for a moment too long before he shook his head. “What were you saying about bothering Pope?” he asked with a smile, tugging the stethoscope out of his ears, brushing his fingers across yours when he handed it back to you. 

You dropped your stethoscope back in your bag, tugging your tactical jacket over your shoulders.

“Can’t wait to see what delicious MRE has been bestowed on us today,” you joked, walking over to the center of the cave where everyone else had gathered. Frankie laughed as he followed behind you. 

✭・.・✫

Your group sat around a lantern, listening to Pope give a brief mission rundown while everyone waited for their MREs to heat in their packages. 

“Alright everyone. When the sun goes down, we light these fields up. If the flowers burn they can’t be used to manufacture heroin. They want this done quickly and quietly, which is why they sent us. We’re ghosts.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement, mumbling their assent.

“Our extraction point is about a two day hike away. We’re taking everything down that we can on our way there.” 

“Aye aye,” Benny joked, a low laugh rumbling through everyone in the group.

Santiago rolled his eyes and everyone started to open their meals, various grimaces apparent on everyone’s face. Your group had done several missions together and dinner was when you all came together, to commiserate over the food and roast each other for everyone’s benefit. 

“How was your brief medic refresher Catfish?” Santiago asked. 

“Quick and dirty,” Frankie quipped, laughing as you rolled your eyes. 

“So,” you chimed in, quickly changing the subject, “how is it you came into the name Pope?”

You were genuinely curious but felt Frankie groan beside you. You were newer to their team and had learned everyone’s nickname origin story except for Santiago’s. 

“You really don’t know?” Santiago asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You offered a shrug while everyone else chuckled, sharing looks that made you think you were going to regret asking. 

“I bring people to God all the time,” he stated, face stoic in the chorus of groans. 

“Really? I didn’t know you did missionary work." 

His façade cracked and he smirked at you.

"It’s never missionary, Adder." 

The realization settled into you and you groaned loudly while everyone around laughed.

"I can’t believe I didn’t put that together sooner, what the fuck,” you grumbled, throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t eat any more of this shit, I’m going to go wait for nightfall and try and cleanse that mental image from my brain.” 

You stood up and handed Frankie the rest of your dinner, knowing he’d finish it for you.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Santiago called to you as you walked towards the mouth of the cave. A silent middle finger was all you responded with, shaking your head at yourself; you walked into your own roast this time. 

You sat at the edge of the cave, looking out at the valley. It was a wonder that something so beautiful could be used to make drugs that cost thousands of people their lives a year. Not to mention the millions of dollars spent in healthcare, treatment, and criminal justice involvement, plus the cost of whatever you were doing here. 

That’s what it always came down to in Washington - the dollars and cents. No one really cared about the people they sent away to fight a faceless war against something they barely had a hope of defeating. If this mission was successful, it would be lauded throughout the country. And if you failed, no one would be the wiser. 

You felt a presence next to you, pulling you from your cynical thoughts.

“Can’t believe you walked into that,” Frankie chided, offering you a gentle smile.

“I know, I know,” you laughed, moving to sit and watch the sun set. Frankie sat next to you, his hand resting on the ground with his pinky crossing over yours. 

“I’m glad they assigned you to med support,” you murmured, thinking that if you acknowledged anything else it would be taken away. 

“Yeah,” Frankie breathed, “me too. I’m sure I’ll get more formal training later but I’m glad to be able to help a little bit.“ 

"I had to request some kind of support after the last incident, even if it’s just to cover while I work.”

You were quiet, afraid that if you spoke too loudly it might break the illusion you were under, and the feeling of Frankie’s hand on yours would disappear. 

Frankie turned to look at you, seeing the tension on your face.

“Hey…is this okay?”

You felt Frankie curl his pinky tighter around yours, heat spreading across your skin once more. You and Frankie had been friends since the first day you met, always hanging out at the bar or going to target practice together. Your small team was almost always on some mission but those rare moments at home, you and Frankie frequently spent catching a movie or making pizza, neither or you voicing a desire for something more. 

“Absolutely,” you whispered, inching your hand closer to his. “But why now?” 

“I don’t know,” he said, an edge to his quiet voice. “It’s not like what we do is safe and every time we come out, I just, felt like maybe I should-” 

“Hey!” Benny called, you and Frankie both pulling your hands into your laps like they had been struck by lightning.

“We’ve got about ten minutes til that sun is down, you guys ready?” 

“Yeah,” Frankie responded, standing up to stretch his back before offering you a hand up. When you stood you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, waiting for Benny to turn back into the cave before whispering gently across his ear.

“Me too.” 

You walked back into the cave, fastening your tactical jacket as you went while Frankie watched, a peaceful smile settling onto his face. When this mission was done you’d all get a few days off and he fully planned on asking you out on a real date this time. 

✭・.・✫

The fields behind you burned, fire reaching high into each sky. The plan was to take a small mountain path to your extraction point, lighting the fields with incendiary rounds as you went. You were high enough on the ridge that the flames weren’t a concern, and the maps indicated a clear zone about six kilometers north where you would be able to take a break to rest. It was one of the simpler missions your team of specialists had been sent on, but you knew better than to feel comfortable. 

Your team finally reached the end of this section of fields, with Will firing the last incendiary and setting it ablaze.

“Stay close everyone, we need to keep moving before we get to the break point,” Santiago said, signaling everyone to move along. The terrain changed as you went; even in the dark you could tell it was too rocky for the flowers to take root. Your company crept along the ridge, keeping a careful eye for any surprises. These weren’t your mountains after all. 

Your path began to descend and Santiago signaled a stop, he and Benny pulling away to check that the area was clear. When he gave the all clear signal you all fanned out, searching for anywhere your group could settle in for a few hours rest. 

Frankie gave a short whistle and you turned to see him pointing at a rocky overhang. Smaller than the cave from earlier, but it would work. You all converged together, huddling in against the rocks.

“I’ll take first watch,” Tom volunteered, shuffling to face the darkness while everyone else pretended to find comfort on the stones. You gently rested your head on Frankie’s arm, eyes fluttering closed with sleep. 

✭・.・✫

A crack of gunfire followed by Tom’s cry jolted you upright, setting you to scramble for your pack and race to Tom’s side.

“It’s just my arm,” he groaned as you shushed him, putting a flashlight in your mouth and throwing on gloves as Frankie dropped his bag beside you.

“Go cover them,” you said quickly, “this is clean and won’t take me long.” 

You quickly applied a tourniquet to Tom’s arm to slow the bleeding.

“We’re just gonna clot and pack for right now,” you muttered, words garbled around the flashlight as you opened one of kaolin packets and dumped it into his wound, dressing it tightly.

“You’re going to be fine,” you reassured him dropping your flashlight to the ground. He nodded at you with a grim smile.

“Why is it always me,” he laughed darkly. You peeled your gloves off and tossed them to the ground with a shrug before zipping the medical bags, standing to ready your rifle. 

Unknown to any of you, one of the guerrilla soldiers had peeled away from the main ambush and was slinking across the rocks. His eyes focused on you, the closest target to him; easy picking. Knowing a shot would give away his position he holstered his gun and pulled out a large knife, flipping it in his hand before slowly stalking towards where you stood. 

You screamed as he tackled you, letting off a shot from your gun.

“Fuck!” you yelled, trying to kick the attacker off of your body. As flames consumed the bush around you you began to panic; your rifle wasn’t supposed to have incendiary rounds at all, and the heat from the fire was fogging your eyes. A closed fist met your nose before a brutal pain ripped through your body, the knife sinking deep into your flesh. 

Screams flew from your chest as you heard Frankie yell your name, a gunshot quickly following. The man slumped and fell over you, crushing you under his weight. The sounds of yelling were muffled until the man was lifted and you saw Frankie looking down at you, grabbing the collar of your jacket to pull you away. 

You couldn’t help the cries that came as your searing pain ripped through your leg with the movement, blood seeping from around the knife to darken the earth.

“I’m going to pull this out,” you heard him say, your head foggy as you tried to reach out through the shock. 

“No,” you sputtered, “no. Please. It needs - it needs to stay still. If this hits my femoral I’ll bleed out.” 

The fear on Frankie’s face was obvious.

“Stretcher?” he asked hopefully, recalling all the field stretchers he had seen on his medevac flights.

“Folded behind my bag,” you grunted, the pain radiating through your thigh. Frankie nodded and ran towards your pack while tears streamed down your face, the gunfire around you increasing in frequency while the flames continued to edge closer.

Frankie dropped to his knees next to you, quickly assembling the stretcher before sliding you onto it. The jostle made you scream out again and Frankie scrambled towards your leg, holding pressure around the knife.

“Don’t let go, Frankie. Please don’t let go.” Your voice was heavy as pain took over your body, Frankie’s sob falling on your unresponsive ears. 

“Catfish, you need to let them go!” Santiago screamed, trying to be heard over the chaos. “We need you to help cover, they're not going to make it out of this!” 

Blood boiled in his veins and he held onto you tighter.

“Fuck you!” he roared, “I’ll carry them until I go down too!” 

“We have a mission, casualties happen!” 

“You’re going to get us all killed out here!” Frankie’s cheeks burned with anger, eyes dark and face taut as he stared Santiago down. 

“Not if you let them go! Redfly is by himself, and we still have to finish this mission!” 

“Fuck your mission!” he screamed, tear stains streaked down his cheeks. “Poppies don’t bleed, but people do!” 

Frankie kept one hand on your leg while he reached the other behind himself and pulled out a small pistol, pointing it at the ground between Santiago’s feet.

“You’re not thinking and I swear if you don’t fucking start we’re going to be leaving here with three wounded!” 

Frankie’s chest heaved as glared at Santiago, waiting for him to respond. Something that looked like sorrow and regret flashed across his face before it was set in a tight line again. He grabbed the communicator from his shoulder again and started barking into it.

“We need immediate extraction, our medic is down, I repeat, our medic is down! One additional wounded. We’re trying to get to cover.” 

Benny ran towards Frankie, grabbing one end of the stretcher while Frankie took the other, shuffling back towards the cover of the rocks. When they set the stretcher down he climbed over you, holding pressure onto your leg while his mind raced. He had no idea how to stabilize the knife besides holding onto you with all he had. 

“Medic down! Medic down!” Santiago screamed into his communicator again, waiting for any kind of response. The bright white of your arm band was splattered with blood, the red cross mocking him. You had given him the basics, but this was far from that.

“Fuck,” he yelled again, staring at your quiet face. “Please, Addie, please look at me." 

Your eyes rolled open for a brief moment as you groaned, and the blood that soaked his hands feeling like it weighed more than the world. Santiago could barely be heard through the gunfire, everyone falling back to the cave. Tom was trying to cover from his position, his wounded arm making it difficult to maneuver.

“We’re gonna get them out of here,” he called over to Frankie. 

Frankie barely heard him, his focus on holding the knife in your leg. Santiago was yelling again, closer this time.

“Extraction, 10 minutes. Three insurgents left.”

A loud shot went off followed by Will yelling “two left!”

He let out a shaky breath as he looked to you, trying to calm himself by talking to you. “Two left, okay? You can stay with me for that, we’ve got ten minutes.” 

Eventually the gunfire stopped,\ and the only barrier that remained was the fire. Santiago looked over your body, seeing Frankie’s hands wrapped around your thigh.

“Fish,” he said quietly, resting his hand over his shoulder, “if that knife moves, they're going to be in big trouble.” 

“That’s why it’s not going to fucking move,” he snarled back, glaring at the man he called his friend; his anger from before not yet subsided. 

“Frankie, we _need_ to move. The chopper can’t get here with the fire. There’s a very good chance it’s going to slip while we’re moving them.” Frankie’s face softened for a moment, realizing that Santiago was attempting to prepare him for what seemed inevitable.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m staying right here. Carry us both.” 

“Tom’s wounded too,” Santiago said quietly. 

“Carry. Us. Both.” Frankie spat between gritted teeth. He would die on this rock before he let you go. 

Defeated, Santiago nodded, gathering the rest of the team. He and Will shouldered the back of the stretcher while Benny took the front. Tom clipped the extra bags to his and dragged them behind him as they walked. Frankie kept a steady pressure as they moved, keeping his ears alert for his favorite sound - the heavy whir of helicopter blades. 

They had finally reached a clearing and the stretcher was set down gently on the ground, your groan barely audible as the pressure on your leg changed. Finally, the lights of a helicopter broke through the darkness as Santiago waved a red light in the air, signaling their location for rescue. As soon as the chopper hit the ground, two medics came running out to help Tom on board before assisting with the stretcher, carrying you and Frankie inside. 

The medics assessed you carefully, grimacing when they saw the state of your leg.

“I can’t let go,” Frankie breathed.

“It’s okay now,” Santiago offered, voice static in his ears. When did they give him a headset?

“I can’t let go!” he yelled this time, holding onto your leg while the lead medic began to plead with him. 

They had to stabilize the knife and clean the wound as best they could, the rust on the blade evident from where it peeked out between Frankie’s hands.

“Sir, please, you’ve gotten them this far. Let us take things from here.”

Finally Frankie’s head fell, a sob rattling his chest.

“Okay,” he choked out, slowly peeling his crimson stained hands away from your body. 

Santiago pulled on the back of his jacket, helping him climb off the stretcher.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Pope?” he snapped, anger darkening his features. 

“I wasn’t thinking and it was a bad call. All of us would probably be dead or worse if we hadn’t listened to you. I’m sorry.” 

Santiago’s apology did little to quell the storm raging through his veins.

“Fuck,” he yelled again, ripping off the headset before sinking to his knees, watching as the medics worked over your still body; you could be dead, and he wouldn’t even know it. 

Another sob racked through him.

“Why did you have to come into my life?” he cried out, balling his fists against his legs. “ _Why did you have to love me back_?” 

Despite how loud the helicopter was, everyone could hear the anguish in his voice, picking out a few of his words and filling in the blanks. Santiago stepped in front of him again, sinking to his knees while he picked up the discarded headset.

“You’re going to go deaf if you don’t put this on.” Santiago pulled him into a tight hug, your blood smearing onto his uniform too. “It’s going to be okay, Frankie.” 

✭・.・✫

When they touched down at the hospital, a group of nurses ran out to meet the helicopter, helping everyone off the aircraft and inside. They took Tom to an operating room to pull out the bullet and stitch the wound closed, more than was able to be done on the field. 

They rolled you into another operating room and Frankie tried to follow, stopped by a kind nurse that guided him to the theatre window so he could stay near you. Someone else stopped by and offered him a shower which he declined, refusing to leave until he heard your voice again. 

He wasn’t ready to lose you. 

The medics on the helicopter were able to stabilize the knife until the surgeons could remove it, carefully controlling your bleeding with sponges and sutures. Frankie stared at the heart monitor, watching the heartbeat tick by that he had heard so closely less than twenty-four hours ago. The one that he wanted to keep hearing for as long as he could. 

He didn't know how much time had passed before the nurse appeared by his side again, bringing him to a recovery room where they wheeled you in a few moments later. His heart leapt in his throat at the sight of you connected to wires and machines, keeping watch over your quiet form, assuring him that you were still there.

“The sedatives will wear off soon,” the nurse said quietly. “We don’t normally let guests use the shower, but it’s there if you want it.” 

Frankie nodded his head while offering a quiet thanks. He groaned as he ran his hands over his face, the sight of your blood staining his skin making his stomach turn. He slowly got up and walked into the bathroom, shedding his clothes and stepping under the warm spray. He watched the water turn crimson as he stared at his feet, letting the warm water flow over his body. 

Finally feeling slightly clean he stepped out and toweled himself off. The knock on the door caught his attention and he slowly cracked it, seeing Santiago standing there.

“I brought you clothes. And I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, again. I should’ve listened to you.” 

“I get it,” Frankie said, taking the clothes from Santiago. “It’ll be okay.”

He punched Santiago in the shoulder, opening the door wider to see if you had woken up yet. Santiago gave him another look before giving him a playful shove.

“When they wake up you better tell 'em how you feel. All of us are sick of you two making heart eyes at each other all damn day.” 

Frankie laughed, closing the door in Santiago’s face to get dressed. When he opened it he was alone again, and plopped down in the chair next to your bed. He took your hand in his and ran his thumb over your knuckles, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. 

Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly returned to you. Your hand was warm, pressed into something firm. You slowly looked to your side and saw it clenched in Frankie’s own, his head bowed next to you with exhaustion. 

You watched him for a few moments, his thumb slowly traveling over the back of your hand. He was speaking to himself so quietly you couldn’t hear anything he said - but you wanted to. 

"Frankie,” you rasped, voice thin and tired. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe he was hearing your voice again, looking up to see your tired smile shining down on him. He breathed your name, moving to cup your face in one hand while he squeezed your hand with the other. 

You looked exhausted - eyes bruised and nose split, small cuts and scrapes all over your face and body. Not to mention the wires that stuck out from everywhere. Somewhere in the distance he heard your pulse pick up again, and he swore he’d never seen a sight more beautiful. 

“I couldn’t let you-,” he choked out, the image of that knife sticking out of your leg mere centimeters from ending your life branded into his mind. 

“I don’t want you to,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand as tightly as you could. Quiet tears began to fill your eyes as you looked at him, a thousand questions about how and why you were still alive running through your mind. 

But they could wait. 

“Frankie,” you started again, only to be quieted by a gentle hush while he ran his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“Would it be stupid to kiss you right now?” he asked gently, memorizing every molecule of your face as he held you in his hands. 

“Probably,” you laughed, doing your best to break out a grin. 

He leaned forward and tenderly placed his lips over yours, wishing the first time he had done this _wasn’t_ in a hospital after you had nearly died. But there was nothing but time now. 

And he planned on never letting another second go. 


End file.
